Chapter 4

F  A  L  L  O  N

Every day that passed was another day that the company grew more restless. They couldn’t stand being locked up, especially when they weren’t 100% sure what for. I had opted to release fewer details, the company knows that something is wrong, just the fact that the council had two council meetings within the span of one week. Neither of which were on the original scheduled day.

Nearly a week has passed since our man successfully delivered the response. The Chilean Company member, Everardo, who is also the top ranking man in Dominika’s fleet, traveled to the middle of the forest and left the note staked to a tree. Knowing that they have us under what is most likely full time surveillance, we guessed that the response would be received shortly.

I lazily trailed my finger over the compound progress reports that Marco had delivered to me a little over three hours ago.

 

The mess hall, while not completely secure, was alive with League Members. Most of the Company was here, everyone else was either on patrol and scouting, working graveyard, or resting in their perspective apartments. Something I wish I was doing now, because the combination of exhaustion and noise was giving me a migraine. I’m highly considering walking out if Celest doesn’t show up soon, seeing as she was the one who called me here in the first place. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed before attempting to blink the tiredness from my eyes.

The clash of a dropping metal tray table alerted my senses, if only for a moment. As soon as I took sight of Celest’s fatigued body, by own relaxed exponentially. “You should eat, Fallon. I bet you 'avén’t eaten once all day, 'ave you?”

I sighed, delicately resting my head in my hand, “You’re not completely right. Not completely wrong either, but that’s not th' point.” I murmured the end to myself, but being the type she is, Celest heard me anyways and gave me a pointed look. I tiredly rolled my eyes, snatching the apple from the tray and chomping into it.

She gave me a laughing smile, “That wasn’t very lady like.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Does it keek lik' I care?”

She smothered a smile, “Non, I suppose no. Okay, be 'onést. What do you think is going on here? Why do you think that they are only coming forward now?” Celest rested one elbow on the steel tabletop, fork popping a piece of chicken from her salad into her mouth. “They called us ‘'umanities last 'ope’, that’s the only 'eadline played anywhere for deux weeks straight before we were shipped away. So they obviously know who we are.”

I looked her in the eye, wielding the most emotional expression I’ve had all day, Though it was still rather blank. “To be honest, I don’t even know anymore. All I can say is that I don’t trust it. Th' company is top priority, always. 'N' if push comes tae shove, th' League is my family. 'N' I'm going tae protect it wi' my life.”

She nodded with admiration flickering in her eyes, “good.”

We sat in mutual silence for a while, she ate and I reread the reports again.  Celest stood and gathered her trash, as well as my apple core. I averted my eyes from her powder blue scrubs; the bright color provoked an uproar of my migraine. When I looked back up, I noticed that Owen had joined her, and was leaning cautiously over the table.

“We’ve got something Fallon.” I stared blankly at him through my lashes before sighing and gathering my papers back into the file.

Celest and I followed Owen out to the back of the kitchen, where the rest of the council awaited. Each of them rested sleepily around the small space. Amaya lying on her side atop the counter, robe sleeves serving as a pillow. Von rested against the wall, light snores emitting from between his lightly opened lips. Bianca and Trevor had their backs to each other, valiantly fighting the effects of sleep deprivation. Marco was sitting on the counter where the drying racks usually sat for dishes. Even Dominika rested her head on Owen’s shoulder as he entered the room. I pretended I didn’t see his smothered smile as I moved past, although I found it endearing.

Marco was lazily rubbing his jaw when Celest and I entered. He perked up a bit, blandly stating, “We’ve gotta stop meetin' like this.” I rolled my eyes and Celest released the nervous breath she’d been holding with a smile, also dropping her arms from their crossed position. She moved and hopped up onto the counter beside the CI Head. He however jumped down, looking me in the eyes and saying, “sit.” He put his hands on my waist and lifted, dropping me on the counter before I could swat them away. I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and looked at the council seriously; everyone was either struggling to stay awake or was already asleep. We may be soldiers but we are still young. It’s an ironic thought. “Okay, let’s talk.”

Agnes stepped to the middle of the group, “So, what? Were just not gonna make anythin' official anymore?” Agnes was paler than usual, grey rings under her eyes and sullen cheeks almost gave the impression of illness.

I swallowed a sigh, “Agnes, I promise that when things return tae normal, we will go through' th' full extent o' procedure. But for now, somebody please tell me whit you’ve got?”

Oliver stepped forward, thick flannel pajama pants and thermal nightshirt betraying his sophisticated personality, “Note was delivered the same as the first, gift wrapped and left at our front gate.”

I frowned, but I didn’t have to speak the words to ask my question. Marco chimed from my other side, “Scouts can’t figure it out, one minute its clear and the next thing they know we’ve got a gift on our doorstep.”

“Fine”, I sounded like I was scraping the bottom of the barrel for energy. Which was not wrong, but I needed a brave face for them, they needed my strength. Taking a quick and deep breath, I put all my remaining vigor into my following composition. “Whit does it say?”

Oliver handed the paper slip to me grimly, “It’s not good.”

I read it over carefully, not appreciating the sarcastic tone of the voice in my head as I did so.

Hello again! It was so nice to watch all of you scurry into hiding! We’re polite people, so we would like to set up a meeting with you. Particularly with your leader, Fallon, the one with falcon tattoo? You must know that we mean no harm. If interested, meet at the Partway Park Bar in the city at dusk tomorrow night.

The entire group sobered at the mention of a meeting. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was a disastrous idea. It took several minutes for the reality of the situation to sink in, I saw Von take a shaky breath and Amaya gulp like her throat had gone dry.  

“I have tae go.” My words were so soft I almost didn’t hear them, Celest turned to me with shock and disbelief at the same time that Bianca breathed ‘no’ and Lok’s jaw dropped open.

“No. No? Absolutely not. There is no way in hell, Fallon. Maldita mujer loca! Estás fuera de tu mente maldita Fallon? Tu serás mi muerte. Dame otra úlcera por qué usted no?! Me vuelve loco.” Marco started speaking so quickly that his words slipped into quick and heavy Spanish. I could hardly comprehend him, his words were so nippy. I roughly translated it in my mind, the message less than calm or collected. Dominika promptly murmured  “rude”, after he had concluded his rant.

I glared at Marco, who stood his ground and glared right back, “Whit are we gonna dae? Send cutesy messages back 'n' forth? Whit are we, pen pals?”

Amaya piped up from her lying spot on the opposing counter top, “I used to have a pen pal, and his name was Marian. He lived in Italy.” Bianca turned to her with a slight smile, “that is so nice!”

We stared at them before Oliver commented like a teen girl over a reality show, “Ladies, big issues at stake here. Whether or not Marco is going to let Fallon go off to her possible death from the guys at the compound down the way.” Both Marco and I glared at him until he stared at us indignantly and raised his arms in mock surrender.

“I’m goin’. N’ that’s final.” Marco straightened his back and tilted his head back with a set jaw, as if to warn me not to test him. I maintained eye contact as I continued to direct blunt orders, “We can work out th’ details in the morn, but for now, Amaya I want ye tae make th’ announcement, ’n’ get everyone off tae their rooms.” The thin framed female nodded sluggishly, propping herself up on one hand and rubbing her tired eyes with her other fist.

“That goes for th’ rest o’ ye as well”, they nodded respectfully, with exception of Marco, who was still scowling. I jumped off the counter, hiding my surprise when I almost stumbled because the counter was taller than I had expected, I took a shallow bow and glanced at Agnes, “This concludes our meetin’ for tonight.” Her gaze narrowed to a pinpoint and lips pursed as to keep herself from bursting out with a comment she would live to regret.

I nodded curtly at the cluster before striding away, the feel Marco’s glower on my back hot and uncomfortable. I’ve a feeling that the yelling isn’t over with for the night. Unfortunately my stride was stopped only halfway through the mess hall.

“Good morning, Fallon”, the Brazilian League member – Emilio – was directly in front of me, purposely blocking the path with his massive chest. Emilio was an attractive 6”1’, broad shoulders and overly muscular arms. He was dressed well, plain t-shirt with a brown blazer over it and a nice pair of pants, I’m always surprised at the quality of some of the clothing we would find, or make.

“What.” I was sure to over emphasize the singular syllable to demonstrate how little patience I was running on, and how little I was willing to give to him. I’ll need plenty of it for my argument with Marco later.

“Well you’ve been looking so run down lately, I just figured I’d make sure you were alright.” I didn’t fail to notice the comforting smile and sparkling white teeth he flashed toward the conclusion of his words. It wasn’t a smile I trust, it seems lately that there are a lot of smiles I don’t trust. “Just worried about you Fal”, he chuckled slightly, like it was an obvious fact.

My eyes narrowed distrustfully, face otherwise stoic. “Do not ca’ me ‘Fal’. That is not my name.”

He threw his hands up, slightly taken aback, but adorning a slick smirk all the same, “Sorry neném, –”

“Not neném”, I interjected crossly, patience wearing very thin, very quick. I am not in the mood for Emilio’s advances. I don’t have the energy for this.

Emilio leaned into my space, an attempt as intimacy, I suppose, I leant away, “You don’t like neném? What about minha? vida? Paixão? Docinho? Gatinha, maybe?”

I squinted, preparing to make my exit. “First, one o' those means th' same thing as neném. Second, ye talked, I listened. I am done listening now. I am off tae my room, goodnight, Emilio.” I moved, not walking even regionally far past him before he took hold of my arm and turned me back toward him.

I held a murderous flicker in my eye when he glanced at me afterward. Emilio looked down at his hand on my bicep and rolled his eyes before letting go. “Look, I just –”

Not halfway through his sentence, Amaya began her announcement. The moment Emilio turned his attention away from me, I slipped off. I could hear him stopping his yells short as I pushed open the door.

My apartment was only a building away, and there was a small hallway intersecting them. The company built these intersecting corridors three months after our relocation in anticipation of a lockdown. I realize now what a clever idea they were. It was odd to me the setup of the buildings themselves. They were thin and tall, the front door opening to what could only be described as a narrow hall. Said hall was so slim that there was hardly any room for two people to pass side by side, it was  no understatement to say that it was a tight fit. At the opposite end were the doors to the passing corridors. And just inside the door to the right was the first flight of stairs.

There was movement inside my apartment door. I sighed and dropped my head, pushing open the door. When I saw Marco’s figure in my arm chair, I sighed and locked it. I maintained my silence as I went about the room. I pulled off my bandana and gloves, placing them in the top drawer of my nightstand. Next I slid off the arm cuff, and untied the rag at my waist, both going into the pile. Next were the holsters, the knife into the drawer and the gun itself underneath my pillow. Next removed was the chunk of armor, it rested next to the pile. Finally, I sat at the edge of the bed and slowly began to work off my boots.

I could hear Marco move closer, “You are no–”

I raised one finger as a signal to wait, “I’ve not even got my boots off yet.”

I finished with the second one, placing them both uniformly on the other side of the night table. After which I stood straight with my hands behind my back. Marco had the most indignant of expressions spanned over his features, arms crossed and muscles rippling, he arched an eyebrow at me.

“I’m goin’”

His face became stony, “No. You aren’t goin’ anywhere. I will tie You to the bed if I have to.”

My eyebrows attempted to flirt with my hairline, “Tie me tae th' kip, huh?”

Marco’s glare would’ve buried me in the ground, had looks been able to kill, “Cut it out. Not more than a  week ago were you going on about safety and takin’ every precaution. Now all you wanna do is throw yourself into a dangerous situation, where you could possibly get yourself killed! Vas a hacerme perder mi mente, mujer loca!” Marco threw his hands up in the air, pacing around the bed and muttering in Spanish.

I rolled my eyes and made a mocking face, as I crossed my arms, “Okay, enough wi’ th’ cawin me doolally, in Spanish, too! I ain’t the one losing his gallus in another person’s bedroom.”

His eyes widened slightly in mock surprise to coincide with his mocking tone, “Well maybe if you stop doin’ crazy things, I wouldn’ have to commen’ abou’ how loco you're being.” He was talking so furiously that the words almost began to blur together and the ends of his words were dropped, the rest of his grammar suffered as well. He sighed and dropped his hands to his hips, nervous habit of licking his lips making an appearance.